


Ticket to Ride

by adrianna_m_scovill



Series: Create Your Own Context [6]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Song Lyrics, Strip Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: This might just be the dumbest thing I've ever written and I legitimately don't care because the idea was a welcome distraction at work today. So, basically, you've got a whole bunch of song lyrics and Barba taking some clothes off.





	Ticket to Ride

Benson walked into the quiet, dark apartment. She shucked her jacket and hung it on the coatrack, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her purse on the table. She unbuckled her gun belt and put it on top of the bookcase, out of habit, even though she knew Noah wasn’t home.

Her bedroom door was closed, but there was light painting the carpet beneath it, and she frowned as she headed in that direction. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room.

Barba was standing in the middle of the floor, fully dressed in a suit and tie—everything but shoes. She stopped in the doorway, surprised. “Um…hello,” she said.

“Hey, baby,” he answered, and she didn’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

She narrowed her own eyes, looking him over. “What’s wrong with you?”

He spread his hands. “I like New York in June, how about you?”

“It’s April,” she answered. She pushed the door closed and crossed her arms. “How much have you had to drink?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. “The second you walked through the door I caught a buzz.”

She made a sound of exasperation. “It's been a long day. What’s your plan, here?”

“I’ve got two tickets to paradise.”

“Well, I’ve got one ticket to sleep.”

“You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling?”

She glared at him, putting her fists on her hips. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Does anybody really know what time it is?”

“Did your multilingual button get stuck on song lyrics?” she asked.

He almost laughed at that—she could see him struggling to keep his expression composed. He reached up and loosened the knot of his tie with one hooked finger. “I’ll give you half a point for that, but that’s the last clue you’re getting,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Clue to what?”

“The games people play.”

“I’ve been in these clothes for eighteen hours, the last six bent over my desk doing paperwork. Six hours, Barba. I’m sweaty, sticky, tired…”

“Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be.”

She hesitated. “Did you really just quote Nirvana?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Here we are now, entertain us,” he said, pulling his tie over his head and tossing it toward the chair.

She felt a pleasant flutter in her stomach, an automatic response to the heat in his gaze. “What are you doing?” she asked, although she thought she was finally catching on.

“Dirty deeds done dirt cheap,” he said.

She laughed, although her humor was still mixed with a significant dose of annoyance. “If quoting AC/DC is your idea of romance…” she said, shaking her head.

He shrugged out of his blazer and dropped it over the back of the chair. “You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul. You’ll be my breath should I grow old. You are my lover, you’re my best friend. You’re—”

“I get it,” she laughed. “You don’t have to quote the whole song.”

His fingers were at his suspender clips, and he was looking at her, silent. Waiting.

She lowered her arms to her sides. Her irritation and tiredness were sliding away. “Rod Stewart?”

With a small smirk, he unclipped his suspenders and flipped them over his shoulders. “You’re my brown-eyed girl,” he said, with a wink of encouragement.

“Uhh,” she said, trying to think. He untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it. “You know I’m bad at this,” she said.

He paused with his fingers on the last button of his shirt. “I need a lover that won’t drive me crazy,” he said.

“Hey, now, careful,” she said, and he chuckled softly. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, once more crossing her arms. Her annoyance was purely an act, now, though. “Mellencamp. Or…Benatar?”

He pulled off his shirt and threw it toward the chair. “Tonight’s the night. It’s gonna be alright.”

“More Rod Stewart? Did you just sit around listening to the oldies station?”

He lifted one foot and peeled off his bright-colored sock. “I like that old time rock and roll.”

“Hmm,” she answered. “Bob Seger, and you’re just giving me easy ones because you want to get naked.”

He smiled, removing his other sock. “I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet.”

She snorted. “Hardly,” she teased.

“Thought an angel swept you off your feet.”

“Really?”

“But I’m about to turn up the heat.” He unbuttoned his fly.

“Is this Adam Lambert?”

“I’m here for your entertainment.” Unzipped, slowly.

“How do you even know that song?” she asked.

He slid his trousers down his hips, and her heart was pounding in her chest. Desire was burning, hot and low in her belly. He lifted one foot, then the other, pulling the pants off. He slung them over the chair and looked at her, standing in his boxers and undershirt.

“I heard it through the grapevine,” he said, and she laughed.

“Marvin Gaye?”

He pulled his undershirt up over his head and offered her a sheepish smile. “Do ya think I’m sexy?” he asked, and she laughed again, holding out a hand.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man,” she said.

Grinning, he added, “So big and so strong?” He walked toward her, stopping between her knees, and said, softly, “Jay and the Americans.”

“Really? I don’t even know who—” She stopped, her breath catching in her throat, as his fingers went to the top button of her shirt. She swallowed, holding his gaze.

“It’s okay if you love me,” he said, quietly, holding her gaze as he unbuttoned her shirt. “It’s okay if you don’t. I’m not afraid of you running away, honey, I’ve got this feeling you won’t.”

“Tom Petty,” she managed. He slid the shirt over her shoulders and she pulled her arms out. He tossed it over his shoulder in the direction of the chair, and she smiled. “I want you, show me the way,” she muttered. They both knew she wasn’t good at this game, but that didn’t matter.

“Peter Frampton,” he said, and she got slowly to her feet. He didn’t back up, and they were close, their bodies almost—but not quite—touching. They were eye to eye, heart to heart, toe to toe. He reached down without looking and unfastened her trousers. “Do you wanna make love? Or do you just wanna fool around?” he asked, his voice low as he pushed her pants over her hips.

“Is that a song?” she asked breathlessly as the trousers pooled around her ankles. She stepped out and kicked the slacks aside. She was standing in her bra and underwear, and socks.

“My eyes adore you,” he murmured, lifting a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She smiled and said, “Four Seasons. Which you know I know, since you dragged me to see Jersey Boys.”

Smirking, he reached behind her back and unhooked her bra with a twist of his fingers. “Tell me what you want, what you…” He paused for dramatic effect and raised his eyebrows. “…really, really want,” he finished.

“You did _not_ just quote the Spice Girls?”

He grinned at her, but he didn’t remove her bra. She was so caught up in her desire, wrapped in the heat between them, that it took her a moment to understand that he was waiting for permission. She could barely remember the bad mood with which she’d arrived, or the tiredness. The light in his eyes had given her a burst of energy, and his arousal, caged only by the thin material of his boxers, had awakened an answering ache of desire inside of her.

“Let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked,” she suggested, and she saw his surprise. A small frown creased his brow. “Ah, I stumped you,” she murmured. “Thank Rollins for a little ‘Versace on the Floor,’ huh?” She reached up and stripped off her bra, dropping it to the floor.

He tipped his head, covering her mouth with his, and she stepped closer, pressing up against his body. His fingers slid into her hair, and she accepted his tongue willingly—eagerly—into her mouth. Her hands went to his waistband, but she hesitated. After a moment, he broke away from her mouth and pulled back to look at her.

“I didn’t earn it yet,” she said, and his lips curved into a smile.

“Baby, let’s lay down and dance?” He could tell that she didn’t know the answer. He considered. “I wanna rock and roll all night?”

“Kiss.”

“Okay,” he said, and she was laughing as he once more claimed her mouth. She sank back onto the bed, and he followed her down, his lips on hers and his hand in her hair. He moved his mouth to her jaw, and she tipped her head up so he could kiss her throat. She shivered beneath him. “I wanna kiss you all over,” he murmured against her skin. “All over again, ‘til the night closes in.”

“Um,” she said, trying to think of lyrics as she slid her hands over the warm skin of his back. “I’m so excited?”

He laughed, lifting his head to look down at her, his eyes sparkling with humor. “You are so beautiful to me,” he said, softly.

“What was the one about making love?”

“Do you wanna make love, or do you just wanna fool around?”

“Both,” she said, and he grinned. “Raf?”

“Hmm.”

“I love you more today than yesterday,” she said, holding his gaze. “But…”

He was still smiling. “Not as much as tomorrow,” they finished in unison, and he lowered his head. He hesitated, his lips hovering just above hers, and asked, “Does this mean you’ve traded in your ticket to sleep for a…ticket to ride?”

She was still laughing when he kissed her.

 

 

 

 

 

Song list:

“Hey! Baby,” by Bruce Channel

“How About You,” by Frank Sinatra

“Drunk on You,” by Brett Eldredge

“Two Tickets to Paradise,” by Eddie Money

“You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,” by The Righteous Bros.

“Does Anybody Really Know What Time it is,” by Chicago

“Games People Play,” by Joe South

“Come as You Are” and “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” by Nirvana

“Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap,” by AC/DC

“You’re in My Heart,” “Tonight’s the Night,” and “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy,” by Rod Stewart

“Brown Eyed Girl,” by Van Morrison

“I Need a Lover That Won’t Drive Me Crazy,” by John Mellencamp

“Old Time Rock and Roll,” by Bob Seger

“For Your Entertainment,” by Adam Lambert

“Heard it Through the Grapevine,” by Marvin Gaye

“Come a Little Bit Closer,” by Jay and the Americans

“Breakdown,” by Tom Petty

“Show Me the Way,” by Peter Frampton

“Do You Wanna Make Love,” by Peter McCann

“My Eyes Adore You,” by The Four Seasons

“Wannabe,” by The Spice Girls

“Versace on the Floor,” by Bruno Mars

“Baby, Let’s Lay Down and Dance,” by Garth Brooks

“Rock & Roll All Nite,” by KISS

“Kiss You All Over,” by Exile

“I’m So Excited,” by The Pointer Sisters

“You Are So Beautiful,” by Joe Cocker

“More Today Than Yesterday,” by Spiral Starecase

“Ticket to Ride,” by The Beatles


End file.
